


A Shadow Of Me

by seblaiens



Series: Traitors and Fools [3]
Category: Uncharted (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Discussion of Abortion, Drinking, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-22
Updated: 2016-08-22
Packaged: 2018-08-10 10:46:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7841725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seblaiens/pseuds/seblaiens
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's not his decision, but it's his burden to bear.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Shadow Of Me

**Author's Note:**

> Set during "To Set You Free" after Chloe's abortion.

Harry knows Zoran is keeping him at distance, away from most of the action on the other side of the city, letting him inspect temples in search for some kind of _clue_. He should be glad Harry even found the correct city.  
  
His troop and he are meeting up back at the hotel the rest of the army and Lazarević, _and Chloe_ are staying in, exchanging Intel (which they don't have) and stocking back up on supplies (which are quickly dwindling down) before he'll be sent away again. He wonders what Lazarević's prerogative is, keeping him away and giving him tasks that are only meant to take up his time. There would be no complaining if he at least had Chloe with him, safe at his side. He's been sick worrying about her, so far away from him and with no way to contact her.  
  
In a moment of weakness, he almost asked Zoran to give her his walkie-talkie when they were discussing their next steps, just to check up on her. He ended up just jerking himself off to her memory afterwards instead.  
  
He'd never admit it, but he considers her out of his league, considering their sizable age difference and the fact that she's just so goddamn _beautiful_.  
  
Their baby better inherit her looks, and not his.  
  
It takes him three days before he goes crazy from not seeing her and just drops by the hotel, unannounced. Lazarević finds him just as he's about to step into the lift.  
  
"What are you doing here?" He asks, his face stoic. "I told you not to come back until you found something."  
  
"Even I deserve a day off, once in a while," Harry answers as he presses the button to Chloe's floor. Lazarević steps into the elevator with him, two of his goons following him like little ducklings following their mother. Harry grins at the mental image of Zoran caring for his babies.  
  
"You can't see her."  
  
Harry furrows his brows.  
  
"Why?"  
  
"She's asleep."  
  
"At three in the afternoon?"  
  
"She needs her rest."  
  
A cold shudder runs down Harry's spine at the implication of Zoran's statement. She must have gotten hurt while being out, without him there to fucking watch over her and her pride that drives her to prove that she's just as capable as the men in the group. Even though she should be taking more care of herself now, than ever before.  
  
"What happened?" Harry asks, looking at Lazarević, who's staring ahead at the doors of the lift.  
  
"What did you do to her?" He continues, his voice weak when he realizes that she didn't get hurt in action - it was Lazarević who hurt her.  
  
"What the _did you do to her_?!" Harry yells again, grabbing him by his shoulders and slamming him into the walls of the lift. Even though he's taller than Lazarević, it takes Harry all his strength to even move him an inch.  
  
The safety of two guns clicking, and cold metal pressing against his temple reminds him that maybe he shouldn't assault the leader of an entire army in front of his men. At the first ding of the lift opening, Harry let's go of Zoran and storms out the doors.  
  
Lazarević catches up with him in front of Chloe's room, where he tries to open the door, but it's locked.  
  
"Chloe?" He yells while knocking on the door, his voice breaking, "Chloe, open the door."  
  
"Let her be," Lazarević says firmly, putting a hand on Harry's shoulder and trying to push him away, but Harry slaps his arm away.  
  
"Step away or I'll never let you see her again."  
  
Harry stops his efforts of getting in through the door when hears Lazarević talk again. He knows Zoran would have no qualms about making his threat reality - if he has no remorse about laying his hands on Chloe, Harry would surely not be exempt from some _rough treatment._ He leans his back against the door of Chloe's room, the back of his head hitting the hard wood when he looks up at the ceiling, a dim lamp surrounded by cobwebs swaying lightly as a tank rolls by the hotel.  
  
"What did you do, you monster?" Harry asks, still staring straight ahead. "She's pregnant."  
  
"Not anymore."  
  
Harry's stomach turns, and he can feel bile rise up his throat. He looks at Lazarević, who's standing there with his arms crossed, his lips drawn into a tight line. No compassion, no mercy.  
  
No remorse.  
  
"She asked for it done, when you were away," Zoran says, "I did nothing to her she didn't want."  
  
There's nothing to say. Harry is quiet as he slides down the door, sitting down and burying his head in his hands. He can barely cry, his body too shocked to produce any kind of reaction, so he just sits there on the carpeted floor, trying to not fall apart completely as a tiny amount of tears gather in his eyes.  
  
It feels like ages before Lazarević speaks again.  
  
"I'll let you see her."  
  
He pulls out a key out of his pocket, unlocking the door after Harry gets up, his legs unsteady. He holds himself up with one hand on the wall until Zoran lets him inside, staying in the frame of the door so Harry can't close it behind him for some privacy.  
  
Chloe is lying in bed, her back turned towards the entrance. Her black hair is open and tangled, as if she's been turning a lot in her sleep, and she's clutching a pillow to her torso, her face buried in it.  
  
"Chloe?" She's awake at least, and turns towards him. "How are you?"  
  
Harry swallows hard before he sits at the edge of her bed, his back towards her as he's looking at Lazarević for permission. He nods slightly, and Harry turns, his eyes meeting Chloe's.  
  
"I'm alright." She reaches out for him, but he doesn't think he can stand being touched by her right now, so he pulls back his hand before hers meets his. He buried his head in his hands again, and he feels her stare at him.  
  
He can't take it - being so vulnerable in front of Chloe because of something she willingly did to him. She betrayed him - betrayed him after making him think that she'll change her mind again and they'd give it a shot.  
  
He guesses she doesn't realize that this isn't just her decision to make. That she can hurt him through her careless actions.  
  
Harry stands up, not being able to be in the same room as her. He's scared that, should he lose his temper, he'd hurt her. Hurt her until he feels she's in as much pain as he is in.  
  
Zoran steps aside as Harry walks out of the room and back to the lift, planning on going back to the ground floor where his group is getting ready to leave again. Work is the best thing to do for him right now, get his mind off the future he already thought was set in stone, but Lazarević stops him just as he wants to push the button.  
  
"Come with me," he says, pushing the button to the top of the hotel, where the suites are. _Of course he's staying in the bloody suite_ , Harry thinks grimly. Chloe's suffering and in probable pain in a standard room, and Lazarević has a king size bed to himself.  
  
"Sit," he says when they step inside, and he points at the sofa in the living room. Harry gets comfortable with a sigh, rubbing his face. He's getting a headache, from screaming and crying, probably. Or just from worrying about Chloe for days, only to come back to this.  
  
Lazarević comes back with a beer for Harry, which he only takes after Zoran forces it on him. He doesn't want to get drunk, it'll only make him more melancholy, make sure that he'll still have his headache tomorrow. He knows he'll regret drinking it, but he sips on it anyway.  
  
"She made the right choice," Zoran says after he sits down opposite of Harry in an armchair. Harry scoffs. He doesn't want to hear Zoran's opinion on this - it's none of his business. He shouldn't even have known. Harry wonders why Chloe would have even told him, until he realizes that the fact that she's not in a hospital means she must have done it at the hotel.  
  
"You did it?" He asks, wanting to be sure.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Did everything-" Harry stops for a second, not wanting to ask if it went _well_ , because of course it didn't go well, in his opinion. "Did she get hurt?"  
  
"She'll be fine within a few days."  
  
Harry nods and empties his beer in a few, long gulps. He puts it down on the coffee table between them, just as Lazarević gets them a bottle of clear alcohol and two shot glasses, filling them up to the brim before pushing one to Harry's side of the table.  
  
" _Živeli_ ," Zoran clinks their glasses together before taking his shot.  
  
" _Nastrovje_. Even though I'm not in a cheery mood," Harry grumbles, but nips at it anyway, the strong taste of _rakija_ already familiar to him after that night in Borneo. He still wonders where Lazarević keeps his seemingly endless supply of the liquor.  
  
"You'll get over it," Lazarević says as he puts his glass down. "Greater tragedies have happened."  
  
"Not to me," Harry says quietly, then drinks the rest of his shot. He's not usually one for telling his deepest secrets to people he's barely friends with (and he thinks that maybe Zoran calls no person in this world a friend), but he knows Lazarević is trying to get him drunk so he'll say his piece of mind now.  
  
A smart move. He doesn't want Harry to hold it against him later.  
  
It's going to work as well, because Harry already feels light headed. He hasn't eaten yet, today.  
  
He takes the second round of shots without hesitation, drinking it even faster than Zoran. He asks for another beer, because he can't stand the taste of the _rakija_ on his tongue and in his throat, needs to wash it down with something else. Lazarević doesn't get himself another one - he probably wants to stay as sober as possible during this conversation, keep a clear head.  
  
Harry tries his hardest to stay silent and not play Lazarević's game, but he's too mad and upset to keep quiet.  
  
"You took my child away from me."  
  
"I never took anything from you. I took a few cells that were barely alive from her."  
  
"Without asking for my feelings about it," Harry grumbles. There are new tears gathering in his eyes, more now, since his inhibitions are lowered, and he angrily wipes at them, almost spilling the beer he's still holding.  
  
"It was not your decision to make."  
  
"But it was yours?" Harry asks, casting a challenging glance at Lazarević, who just stares back, expressionless. "Say something!" Harry yells, and he stands up, raising his arms to his side.  
  
"Whatever I say, it will not change how you feel about what Chloe did," Lazarević finally says, and Harry huffs, a tear falling from his cheek onto his chest. "I can tell you a thousand reasons why she did the right thing, and you will still hate me."  
  
"Then why even bring me here? If not to justify her and your actions? I could have gone back to work."  
  
"Yes, because being this emotional will improve your already stellar track record," Zoran actually laughs at him. "Sit back down and have another _rakija._ "  
  
Harry let's himself fall back onto the couch, sinking into the cushion and wishing it would just swallow him whole, never spit him out again. He feels empty to the point of nothingness, and there's a numbness spreading through his body he can't completely blame on the alcohol.  
  
She'd been talking about getting an abortion. He never actually took her serious.  
  
"I had a nephew," Lazarević offers after a while, "he died. My sister did as well."  
  
Harry doesn't look at him.  
  
"Isn't it better to never have something you can lose, to begin with?"  
  
"Such a positive world view," Harry mocks and crosses his arms in front of his chest. Not that his world view is better; he tries to forget about other people and things that don't concern him as often as possible. It's easier to not bother.  
  
"I don't fool myself with silly thoughts of changing the world for the better," Zoran shrugs and pours Harry another _rakija_. "The world has enough people who take on that part. Like Drake."  
  
Harry laughs humorlessly and rolls his eyes. He doesn't want to talk about Nathan, never wanted to talk about him, but for some reason the people around him keep bringing him up. He's stopped bothering with Nathan and their friendship a long time ago. There wouldn't be much to salvage, now, anyway.  
  
"Nathan is no better with us," Harry says as he picks up his glass. "He might think his actions are noble, but the outcome is the same; he's killed and betrayed more people than me."  
  
"It must be hard to stand in the shadow of the golden boy."  
  
Harry laughs again, and stands up.  
  
"That's my cue to leave," he says, darkly, "hire him if you want."  
  
"I don't," Lazarević says and stands up as well, "I needed someone loyal."  
  
"Loyal? Me? Have you met me?"  
  
"You may not be loyal to me, but you are to my money. Drake is driven by _the greater good_ \- I needed someone I could trust. It's why you're still here, even after I took the thing from you you loved most."  
  
"No," Harry decides, and smiles sadly, " _she_ is still here."  
  
"Flynn," he hears Lazarević says as Harry tries to open the door, grabbing next to the handle because his vision is clouded from tears and the alcohol. "You're staying here tonight. I'll tell my men to stay in."  
  
Lazarević gives him a pillow and blanket to get the couch ready. Harry doesn't ask why he doesn't get a room to himself, doesn't want to know if it's so Zoran can make sure he's not bothering Chloe, or if it's to make sure he doesn't try to jump out of the window in a fit of despair. Both seem like equally likely options in his mind right now.  
  
He's exhausted, and on his way to extremely drunk (maybe three shots of _rakija_ in ten minutes _was_ too much), but he can't go to sleep yet if he doesn't want to wake up in the middle of the night to deal with his hangover. With a chuckle he wonders if Zoran will care for him when he inevitably empties the contents of his stomach next morning. He's never been good at taking care of himself after a bender.  
  
Lazarević locks him into the room to talk to his men, and Harry tries not to feel like an animal trapped in a cage. He checks the windows, which all don't open more than the tiniest gap to let in fresh air. He remembers Chloe, also trapped in her room, a few floors down. Maybe she's trying to get out, just like him.  
  
Probably not. She chose to do this herself. He's being forced to endure.  
  
Harry draws himself a bath and gets two beers ready in the time the tub fills. It's been a while since he had an actual bath, the last time was back in London before he flew out to meet Nathan, before the museum heist. Chloe had been with him, not just in London but also in the tub. If Harry was in any other situation than he's in right now, he'd probably feel excited at the memory of what she had done to him in that tub (and on the bed, after), but now he only feels loss.  
  
Loss and slightly cold.  
  
He shivers as he takes off his clothes and throws them into a lump on the floor. His bag of clothes is still downstairs with his troop, but he has faith in Zoran that he'll be smart enough to bring it up to their room.  
  
He opens his first beer as the warm water surrounds his body, relaxing the muscles that have been tense for weeks, maybe even months. This job is getting the better of him - he's stressed, he notices it when he wakes up with his teeth hurting from grinding them all night. He doesn't want to disappoint Lazarević; he might as well drown himself now, to get it over with peacefully, instead of the way Zoran would end it if it came down to it.  
  
Harry's thoughts wander to Chloe again, his stomach lurching at the mental imagine of her lying in that bed, looking so vulnerable, reaching out for his hand. He doesn't know why he pulled away, already feels bad about it, but he wants so desperately to hate Chloe for what she'd done.  
  
But he'd be lying if he said he doesn't love her two-facedness, the way she always keeps him on his toes. Sooner or later, he had to pay the price for it.  
  
By the time he's done with his second beer the water is cold, and he can hear Zoran outside the bathroom. He stumbled as he gets out of the tub, hurting his foot and swearing under his breath before he grabs a towel and wraps it around his waist. It's hard to control his hands - he hadn't realized he'd gotten that drunk.  
  
"Have you brought my stuff?  
Zoran throws him his bag, and Harry gets dressed into a shirt and sweat pants, ready to crawl onto the couch and not wake up ever again. Lazarević is standing at the desk in the room, looking over a map of the city, many temples already crossed out in their search for a clue.

“I'll send you here tomorrow,” Zoran says, pointing at a district of the city that's currently held by the Nepali military. “You need to be careful; I don't want to lose any more of my men.”

“I'll try my best.”

“Try better.”

Harry huffs and turns around, walking over to the couch until Lazarević grabs him by the shoulder and turns him towards him. Their eyes meet, and it takes every ounce of strength inside Harry to look in Lazarević's eyes without flinching.

“Don't take it out on them. If you have to hate someone, hate her or me.”

“I could never hate her. And if there's one man on the planet who I don't want as my enemy, it would be you,” Harry says, honestly. Zoran nods and pats his shoulder, turning back around to the map and his notes. “Go to sleep. You have to get up early tomorrow.”

Harry nods as well, getting on the couch and falling asleep almost immediately, out before he can barely wrap himself in the blanket.

It's four in the morning when he wakes up and stumbles to the bathroom, throwing up the tiny amount of food in his stomach and the mixture of beer and liquor.

If that's how Chloe felt like every morning, he can almost understand why she got rid of it, he thinks, a sad smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth when the thought runs through his head.

It's time to get over it. He doesn't have time to grieve for something he never had, anyway.  
They're colleagues, not partners, after all.


End file.
